Experimentation
by elm87
Summary: After The Fall, everything is back to normal. (I'm in denial that we are still waiting for s3, to cope I'm ignoring it lol). When I say normal, John and Mary are dating as much I love Sherlolly, Molly is over Sherlock. It's just a fic about an OC and Sherlock ;) Bit of fluff. My first Sherlock fic, hope I do justice to Benedict's portrayl of Sherlock.Please enjoy and review!:)
1. Chapter 1

'John!'

'JOHN!'

'Sherlock, what's all this fuss about, people on the street can probably hear you!' Mrs Hudson walked into the sitting room to find Sherlock had flung himself onto the sofa without even removing his trademark Belstaff coat, scarf or shoes.

'Bored.'

'You could always watch the telev….' She trailed off after glancing at the machine and seeing that it had been dismantled into all its separate components. She sighed.

'How can no one be committing crimes! The police haven't become clever enough to catch all the criminals by themselves. Or maybe its!...' Sherlock leapt off the sofa with an excited look on his face before it fell and his shoulders sagged, 'No that wouldn't be it, not enough pigeons…Where's John?' He finally looked around and saw that his partner wasn't in the room.

'He's gone off to the country with that lovely Mary, hasn't he? Lovely couple they make, just right for each other.'

'Eugh, sentiment, who has the time or inclination? I needed him to help with an experiment. But if he's not here I'll have to figure something else out. Damn him.' With that he threw himself back down on the sofa.

Mrs Hudson smiled despairingly at him while shaking her head. She was going to ask if he wanted a cup of tea, but in a mood like this he probably wouldn't hear her, so she quietly left the room

* * *

Two hours later, Sherlock was chasing a man on a bike down Woburn Place, his coat flapping like a cape behind him. The cyclist took turn after turn, trying to shake his tail, but Sherlock always managed to keep up with his knowledge of all the shortcuts in London.

Sherlock saw the cyclist lift his hand to his ear and attach a Bluetooth headpiece, then activate a call with the voice control. 'I'm on my way, he's still following me, get there now!' The man ended the call and leant forward to push himself faster.

After another couple of turns, Sherlock was within grasping distance of the bike as the cyclist turned into a back street. Before even his quick brain acknowledged what was happening, a baseball bat swung out in front of Sherlock and hit him, hard, on the forehead. Feeling the control leave his body, he fell backwards as his eyes started to roll. Trying desperately to maintain consciousness, the last thing he saw was the two men in the alley make a quick getaway back onto the main street.

* * *

'How are you feeling?'

'Grmmmph.'

'Haha, yes I can imagine that nasty bump on your head is making things harder.'

Sherlock winced as his squinting eyes adjusted to the light around him. That nasty bump on the head was definitely the cause of this unfortunate feeling.

Slowly he sat up from what he realised was a sofa. Looking around he saw a girl, no a woman, cocking her head at him, before glancing around the tiny room he was in. She looked intrigued.

'You're Sherlock Holmes.' She stated.

'Hmm yes, and you're a waitress who's just spilt up with her boyfriend and has a desire to live in San Francisco, but lets forgo the introductions shall we. I think I need to be going. Things to do, people to catch.'

'Oh, you're not going anywhere, not with a knock on the head like that, took me ages to wake you up as it was, didn't want you dying on me did I? Not the famous Consulting Detective!' She grinned at him. 'Steph Glass, pleased to meet you.' She extended her hand.

Sherlock glanced at it disdainfully and made to get up. The sharp pain in his head made him sit down again quickly. 'Hmph.' He sulked and leaned back closing his eyes.

Steph retracted her offered hand. 'There, you see, exactly why you aren't going anywhere. At least I can see your mental faculties are all there, deducting all of that in about 2 seconds. Don't suppose you want to explain it to a _lowly creature like me?' _Again she grinned at him.

Sherlock slowly opened his eyes, he could tell by the distance she was keeping from him that she wasn't the usual groupie that had followed him. He grimaced at the thought of them. Hundreds of them had come out of the woodwork after the revelation that he wasn't dead and that Moriarty really had been a psychotic serial killer mastermind.

He studied her for a second, she seemed genuine, the gleam in her eyes and the way she leant forward like an excited child. 26 years old, what people would call pretty, but didn't use that to her advantage. No make up on, didn't need it, nails short and tidy but without polish, clothes, obviously well made, but not showy. Her brown hair was tied back in a bun, obviously to keep it out of the way for work, but she didn't use a pony tail to attract attention. Her perfume was light, not over-whelming. No wearied look on her face or lines, obviously didn't take life to seriously, took things as they came.

He glanced back at her brown eyes, and for a second longer than he normally would, stared into them, before subtly shaking himself. Some knock on the head that was to make him lose concentration.

All of this only took 2 seconds deduction, and he could never resist a chance to show off, though he would never admit that's what he was doing, so he began into his explanation.

'Your name badge is sitting on the side table over there with your notepad for orders, your apron with what looks like spilt coffee is hanging up by the door, hence, waitress. There's an empty tub of Ben and Jerry's oh my apple pie in the bin, along with tissues, a half torn photo of you and a man and an empty bottle of rose wine, there's also a system of torture in the DVD player in the form of some weepy 'chick flick', so split up with boyfriend in the past day or two. As for San Francisco, anyone walking in here would hardly fail to notice the amount of pictures and ornaments from the city, and also your laptop is open at lettings in the area and job vacancies. Did I miss anything?'

He looked bored and turned his head closing his eyes again so he didn't see Steph's grin grow larger as she said, 'Only the one thing,' his eye's snapped open as he glared at her, 'It's not coffee, it's coke, on the apron.'

'Hmmph', he closed his eyes again. 'Always something. So what am I doing here? I presume I blacked out for the past hour and ten minutes judging by the time.'

'Yea, I was coming home from my shift, and saw you lying in the alley behind my building. I got my friend from the next flat to help me bring you up here. He's good that way, doesn't ask questions. Then I waited till you woke up. Simple really.' She looked at him with concern, 'How are you really feeling?'

'Fine,' he held out his mobile, 'but you might want to phone John.' And with that the pain in his head took over and he blacked out again.


	2. Chapter 2

'Sherlock?'

'Sherlock, come on, open your eyes.'

'Oh, for god's sake! What?' Sherlock half shouted, half mumbled.

'Thank goodness, still your bloody grumpy self then I see, that knock didn't do so much damage. Now open your eyes.' John's voice filtered into Sherlock's mind. He tested opening his eyes and saw three concerned faces looking at him, John, Mary and Steph. Next thing he knew John was holding his eyelid open and shining a pen light into it. After a second he dropped the lid and tested the other eye.

'John is that really necessary?'

'Considering I got a phone call about 2 hours ago from a worried woman saying you were unconscious in her front room after being whacked on the head, I would say yes, very necessary.' John leant backwards from Sherlock. 'Your pupil response seems normal, how are you feeling?'

Sherlock rested his long fingers together in the prayer position under his chin as he leant forward, thinking. 'Fine, I'm fine, but now your back, let's get started on a new case shall we?'

'Sherlock you've just had a suspected concussion and you're already worrying about a case? Actually ignore that, it's you, of course you are. Listen, we need to get you home, a good nights sleep, then maybe you can go gallivanting off round the streets again, doctor's orders.'

Sherlock sat contemplating this, he did need John for his case, and it wasn't urgent so some sleep would probably be a good idea. 'Ok, but we start first thing in the morning.' He stood up and made for the door.

'Um Sherlock, aren't you going to say anything to Steph? She did help you out after all.' John knew Sherlock well by now, but it still surprised him how rude he could be sometimes.

Sherlock turned towards where Steph was standing awkwardly shifting from one foot to another, 'Yes, ah, your assistance was appreciated.' Steph blushed, a small smile crossing her face as she looked down. 'No problem, nothing most people wouldn't have done.' She looked up at him, and caught his eyes with her own brown ones. Sherlock found himself again unwilling to look away, as she extended her hand, he took it. The warmth surprised him as well as the firm grasp. He mentally shook himself.

'Come on John.' Back to his usual self, he strode out the door without waiting for a response.

John had seen his slight hesitation when he'd taken Steph's hand. Unsure what had happened, he smiled at Steph. 'Thanks for giving me a call, and sorry about him, that's just how he is.'

She smiled back at him and Mary, 'It's ok, but you have my mobile number, can you give me a text, just let me know that he's ok?'

'Of course, and thanks again.' He turned to Mary, took her hand and they left.

* * *

Steph left out a long breath. She'd seen Sherlock in the papers and always thought he was handsome, but up close, wow! His presence couldn't be taken lightly. Somehow even with his demeanour she was drawn to him. It was pure chance she had come across him in that alley. Normally she would go in the front door of her building, but she'd left her key at home and had to hope that the back was open. When she had got him upstairs with the help of her neighbour, she had studied his features. And with him unaware of her, she had run a finger down his cheekbones, feeling a shock under her finger tips as she felt the pale, smooth skin beneath them, and the striking bone structure. Something had overcome her, and not really knowing what she was doing, her fingers had run over his cupid bow lips, and she had leaned forward about to kiss them. It was at that point he had woken up…

* * *

After John had _attempted_ to help him to bed, Sherlock had shaken him off, and made his own way into his room. Turning the up lighter in the corner on, a soft glow filled the room. Taking his coat and scarf off, he sat down in the chair across from his bed. Something was rushing around his mind and he needed to work it out. He leaned back and crossed his legs, adopting the prayer like pose with his hands at his chin. He closed his eyes.

_Her finger brushed lightly against his lips, sending a shock through his whole body._

Sherlock's eyes flew open. Now that was interesting. A new sensation roamed his body, settling itself in his stomach. Trying again, he closed his eyes.

_Her hand clasped his, the warmth radiating up his arm. He could feel the softness of her skin beneath his. Her brown eyes with a spark of excitement gazed into his .An unknown feeling passed through his heart, constricting tighter than it should have done. He could sense his pulse rate rising, his inner temperature with it. The black iris of her eyes was growing larger as he stared back at her, the pulse rate in her thumb growing with his._

Sherlock opened his eyes more slowly this time. Sorting these facts out logically, but coming up with impossible answers, his mind grew frustrated. The chemical signs where there. And not just in the girl's body, but his as well! He knew he was what some women found attractive. He had over heard them talking, had even used the knowledge in the past to get the likes of Molly to help him. But for his body to respond the way it did, that was new.

Getting up from the chair, he paced the room, attempting to straighten his mind. Bed, he decided, for once he would sleep on it. A knock to the head was to blame, a rest and in the morning he would be back to his usual calculating self.

Undressing out of his purple shirt and suit trousers, he lowered himself between the silk sheets of his bed. Settling his body into a more comfortable position, sleep took him quicker than usual.


	3. Chapter 3

Steph unlocked the front door to her building and started making her way up the stairs. Today had been busy in the café, but she was glad. It distracted her from thoughts of Him. As she reached her front door though, part of her was sad at the knowledge she wouldn't see him again, at least not in person.

It had been two weeks since Sherlock had been in her flat. Everyday she tried to forget, but her feelings would never diminish. She put the key in her door and swung it open. Straight away she stopped, something was off. She couldn't put her finger on what was wrong, but there was someone in her flat. Feeling in her bag, she lift out her hairbrush, ok so it wouldn't inflict much harm, but it was something.

Slowly walking into the living room, she saw someone sitting on the sofa. Almost exactly the same spot he had been two weeks before. The shock stopped her in her tracks, unable to move. She could see he had taken his coat and scarf off and draped them over the back of the chair, he had obviously been there a while. His right arm was stretched out along the back of the sofa, his right leg crossed at the ankle over his left knee. He look on his face was of curiosity.

'Usually when you see someone you know, it is customary to say hello.' Sherlock raised himself off the sofa and strolled over to where she stood, still in shock.

'What where you planning to do with this?' He gently grasped her wrist above the hairbrush she held, raising it up, 'Brush me to death?' His lips spread into a indolent smile.

The feel of his long fingers, strong on her wrist, made Steph's breath hitch in her throat. 'I..I..What the hell are you doing in my flat! How did you get in?' The words flooded into her mouth as she wrenched free of his grasp. Raising her arm, she whacked him on the shoulder with her hairbrush.

A shocked look passed over Sherlock's face for a millisecond before an amused one took its place. 'I'm sorry, I forget that people don't like me picking their locks and surprising them. I have a proposition for you.'

Steph was incredulous, this, frankly, beautiful man had just broken into her flat, and had a _proposition _for her?! She took a deep breath. 'You can't just do that! You need to ask to come in. I could call the police you know!'

Sherlock looked as his was stopping himself from saying something. Instead he gazed at her.

Her resolve weakened. 'Fine! What's this _proposition_?' She set the brush on the coffee table and turned back to him with arms crossed, steely look on her face.

'I want to do an experiment, but I need your help. In fact I think you're the only one that can help.' There was a slightly lost look on his face, as if he couldn't believe he was saying this.

'What is it then?' Steph wasn't about to forgive him straight away, even if the look he was giving her was melting her ability to think straight.

'When I was here before, you showed an attraction to me. I've noticed it before in other women. But something about this was different.'

Steph stood waiting for him to continue, a blush spreading across her cheeks. He was the world's only consulting detective, of course he would have noticed it. But why did he have to bring it up! 'Yes, and? What was different?'

Now she noticed Sherlock's slightly awkward stance. He seemed unwilling to say the next word, '….me.'

Again waiting for him to go on, Steph was confused. 'You? I don't understand.'

Seeing him attempting to process the words, Steph uncrossed her arms and walked towards him, 'Tell me, please?' She asked softly.

He glanced down at her, 'I am different this time, for some unknown reason, I felt my body responding to your attraction. I came here to test the theory.' His eyes bored into hers, willing her to accept his words.

Steph was stunned. She had heard the stories, read the blog, Sherlock didn't do attraction. Of course he would deduct she was attracted to her, but for him to reciprocate? She never expected that! Ok, so if he was saying this, she had to take advantage, how many girls would get this opportunity?

'How are you going to test it?' Unconsciously she gently bit her bottom lip, unaware of the effect it had on Sherlock's stomach muscles.

A low growl escaped his lips. 'I need your complete participation if this is going to work.'

'You have it.' Her voice was low, almost whispering the words to him.

Sherlock moved a step closer to her, their bodies' only millimetres apart. With one long finger, he gently nudged her chin upwards. Again he noticed the brown in those eyes getting smaller as the blackness advanced outwards. He didn't need to feel her wrist to realise her heart was beating fast; he could practically see the increased blood flowing through the vein in her neck.

With his finger still holding her chin upwards, he leant down and pressed his lips against hers. Instinctively he placed his other hand on the small of her back as he felt her almost give way. There were no more thoughts flooding his brain as his eyes closed, it was as if they had been suddenly shut of. It was all feeling, the feel of her soft lips touching his, the feel of her arms making their way round his neck to steady herself, the feel of her body pressed against his. He had never experienced anything like this.

Until he actually kissed her, Steph hadn't believed he would do it. Once his lips met hers, the shock almost floored her. She steadied herself and responded by lacing her arms round his neck. She pressed her lips closer to his and closed her eyes. She could tell he was inexperienced, so gently she pulled away slightly. At this, his arm around her back tightened, pulling her closer to him. She smiled through the kiss, gently opening his lips with her tongue, he responded by letting her in, letting her guide him.

After several minutes, they both gently broke apart, placing gentle kisses on each others lips as they did. Breathing heavily, they gazed into each others eyes. Neither spoke as Sherlock led Steph to the sofa. Sitting down, he pulled her down beside him, putting his arm around her, unsure what to do next. Steph curled in beside him, resting her head on his shoulder.

'Well, that was certainly enlightening.' Sherlock spoke first.

'You've never done that before have you?' Steph turned her head to look at him.

'No, I've never had the need to. As I said, it was an experiment. I needed to see what I would do. Quite successful I think.'

Steph grinned. But it slowly faded, 'So…was that it, just a one time experiment?'

'Well, the results were conclusive, but what would you suggest. I suppose you are the expert in these matters between the two of us.' She could tell it was hard for him to call her an expert. She hid a small smile.

'We could always have a follow up experiment, a long term one, you know, I could maybe cook you dinner, we could go out for a walk, talk, get to know each other? What do you think?'

'Hmm, yes, it sounds like it could prove very useful, as experiments go.' Sherlock glanced at her with what looked like nervousness. 'So what happens next?'

Steph smiled, her cheeks were starting to hurt the amount she was smiling. 'I do this…'

And with that she leaned over and placed her lips against his for another kiss. One of many more to come.


End file.
